


Black Magic

by HeartEyesTurner



Category: Arctic Monkeys
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:22:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24147346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartEyesTurner/pseuds/HeartEyesTurner
Summary: You meet Alex at a Halloween Party in NYC... and wake up beside him the morning after
Relationships: Alex Turner (Musician)/Reader
Kudos: 13





	Black Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween my loves! In honor of the TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY of this blog… I’m sharing the first part of this Halloween fic!! It’s been a very long time, and I was hoping to have a few more things to share before tonight, but you can’t rush the process can you? Anyways, I think this will be good enough to satiate the hunger for more Turner for the time being 👻
> 
> I also want to say thank you for following me and my writing; whether you’ve been around since the beginning or you’re new around here. It means a lot to me xx

The pillow was too hot beneath your cheek when you woke up that morning. Your eyes were sticky and glued when you cracked them open to assess your surroundings. 

The eyelashes. The adhesive.

“Fuck.” You whispered hoarsely into the dark room, throat dry. The curtains were wide open, but the sky was grey and the wind whipped the trees on the street below. You tried to sit up, but everything ached, and you couldn’t move much past your waist. 

An arm. 

A very nice arm.

Attached to a man.

The man was sprawled beside you on his stomach, his face smushed into the pillow, his breathing steady and even. Only half of his face was visible, but you could see how handsome he was by the shape of his top lip, the long lashes that rested on scruffy cheeks, the acquline shape of his nose… 

Your head hurt, but the memories from the night before came flooding back. 

“Oh my god.” You breathed, eyes scanning the room, the gorgeous naked man’s discarded costume in a crumpled heap on the floor beside the bed. A few feet away was your bunny suit; emerald satin with a big white cotton tail, unzipped, lying in exactly the same position it’d been when you stepped out of it hours ago. 

_“Fucking sexy…” He growled in your ear, his lips soft and wet as they trailed down your neck. He tickled your shoulder with the pads of his fingers, dancing down your spine until he found the invisible zipper; his fingers tugging it down slowly, savoring the moment. He sucked at the bend of your shoulder, and your hands came up as the suit got looser, holding the cups before it slid down. You could feel the heat coming off of him in waves, and your skin prickled with excitement._

_“Let go.”_

_His voice was gruff, and he moaned when you finally let the fabric drop, his hands skimming around your waist to the front, roughly grabbing your breasts and kneading them into his palms as he pressed himself against your ass. He was hard and throbbing against your curves, and you felt a rush of wetness between your thighs, aching for him. You’d fucked around all night; teasing one another mercilessly until you both couldn’t take it anymore. Now you wanted him; wanted all the dirty things he promised on the way to this room._

_You licked your lips as he felt you up, your bottom lip between your teeth, your head lolling back against his shoulder. His nose brushed against your cheek, kissing down your jaw and neck, licking and biting._

_“I want you so fucking bad,” He growled, your back arching as he rubbed up against you. The friction made your head spin, the liquor, too._

_“Fuck me.”_

There was a moan from beside you, and the image in front of your eyes dissipated like smoke. 

“Mmm…” He hummed, his eyes blinking open. They were a soft, sleepy amber as he looked you over. His lips curled up into a smirk, and you felt your skin prickle again with embarrassment. God knows what you looked like. “Mornin’, love.” 

His voice. You remembered the way he’d said your name the night before; velvety, and rich, and deep. Oh, fuck. 

“Good morning.” You rasped and held a hand to your throat. It hurt to talk. 

He squeezed your hip, and your eyes fluttered closed as he slid his palm across your stomach and leaned up on his elbow beside you. “Yeh screamed a lot last night…” The smirk was still there on his gorgeous lips and you sucked in a deep breath. 

“Oh… right…” You giggled, cheeks burning. “Just need some water…” 

There was a tumbler on the nightstand beside a slew of other items from the night before. Cigarettes. Your cuffs and bow tie. Empty bottles from the mini bar. Grabbing the glass, you gulped it down without hesitation and gagged.

“Fuck.” You gulped and stuck out your tongue. “That’s not water.“ 

Alex laughed beside you, deep and gravelly, as he fell back into the pillows. It was so infectious, you couldn’t help but laugh, too. His smile made your stomach flip. 

“C’mere…” He pulled you on top of him, his arms snaking around your body. He hadn’t stopped touching you since he woke up. “I had fun last night wiv yeh…” He murmured, dusting your cheeks and jaw with little pecks from his soft lips. “Me ‘ead is fookin’ poundin’… but it were worth it.”

“We drank a lot.” You confirmed, giggling when he tickled you. 

“Weh did.” He smiled wide. “Did yeh have fun, babeh?”

Babeh. You shivered. “Of course.” His fingers pressed into your muscles and you winced, “I’m aching all over. What does that tell you?” 

Alex wiggled his eyebrows and kissed you deeply. “That’s me fault…” Licking his lips when he pulled away he added, “And that’s yehr tequila.”

You threw your head back laughing, “My watered down tequila. Probably shouldn’t have had that as a night cap. Stomach’s a little…”

“Swishy?”

“Yeah. Swishy. Whatever that means.”

He pulled you down and tucked you back under his arm, “Wanna get some breakfast wiv meh?”

You bit your lip, the smile spreading across your face. “It’s two in the afternoon, Alex. No one’s serving breakfast anymore.”

“Is it?” He laughed, “Well, fuck.”

You walked your fingers up his chest, tracing his collar bone on the way back down. “Besides…” You whispered, “I only have half a costume.”

_“Need these off…” He growled as he pawed at you through your sheer tights, squeezing your ass and lifting you off the floor so that your toes no longer touched._

_“Mmm…” You moaned, your mouth covering his in wet, feverish kisses. He tasted bitter like the tequila and soda and the aftertaste of his cigarettes you’d shared. With your arms around his neck, you buried your fingers in his hair, tugging on it as you kissed him deeper._

_He carried you to the massive bed, the duvet cool against your back when he lay you down, covering your body with his. He kissed you all over, lips wet, licking and biting and teasing until he sat back and grabbed your thighs, sliding you down to the edge. You squealed with laughter and he smiled against your stomach as he kissed at you through the shimmery fabric. The first pass of his tongue against your folds, and the force of his hand spreading your thigh open snapped you back to the present, and you moaned, melting into the bed. It was the tickle of his scruff and the wetness of his tongue that had you writhing beneath him. You couldn’t stay still, wanted him closer, wanted his tongue on you tasting you._

_He grunted and sat up, spreading your legs open and grabbing at the seam in your tights, ripping the crotch open right down the middle. “Oh my God…” you whimpered as he leaned in close, one arm wound around your thigh, and the fingers on his opposite hand stroking at your wet pussy achingly slow._

_“So fookin’ wet…” He groaned, turning his wrist and sliding his fingers inside you. Your back arched as he entered you, feeling him stroke along the ridges inside you, curling his fingers up and covering your clit in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. “Mmmff… yehr cunt tastes so good, babeh…” He lapped at you, holding you steady, “… so sweet… and pink… andmmmdfff…”_

_You cried out, riding his tongue and his hand, your body buzzing from the vibrations of his moans against you. He fucked you hard with his fingers, and you could feel yourself dripping down his hand to the sheets._

_“Please Alex…” You whimpered, rolling your hips upward. “I can’t take it…” Letting go of his hair, you stretched your arms above your head, burying your face against your bicep, your fingers grasping fistfuls of the bed._

_He flattened his tongue, teasing your clit and sucking it between his lips before kissing you deeply and sitting up. The sound of the zipper on his pants made you shake with anticipation, your head a foggy, swirling mess from all the alcohol you’d consumed that night. He stretched your leg up to his shoulder and settled in on his knees, stroking his cock. You watched his hand as it moved up and down, teasing your entrance before pushing into you slowly._

_“Fuckkkkbabehhh…” He moaned as he slid deeper, every ridge of him lighting you up. “So fookin’ tight…” He growled, attempting to stretch your leg wider, but the tights were still in the way. His fingers curled under the split seam and ripped them open again, the tearing sound echoing through the room._

Alex raised an eyebrow as he looked down at you, “Whoops.” 

“Mmm… whoops he says.” You rolled your eyes, but he was giving you a look you hadn’t expected from the man you’d met only eighteen hours earlier. You would be lying though if you hadn’t thought about it once or twice… or several times since you’d been introduced. “What?”

“Wot?” He repeated smiling sheepishly, and casting his eyes downwards, his cheeks flushed beneath the scruff. “I can’t look at you?”

“No… you can look at me.” 

With eyes like that, you can look at me forever. Please.

“Since I’ve made it virtually impossible for yeh teh leave… wanna stay awhile and order room service? Wiv a side of aspirin?”

Any other time, you would’ve run for the hills after a night like that, but you had no desire to leave. And the fact that he wanted you to stick around, well…

“Yes, please.” 

Alex chuckled, his hands still on the move; still caressing you so effortlessly. “If yeh want clothes. I’ve got fings yeh could wear. I kind of prefer yeh like this, though…” He slid the sheet down lower, exposing more of your naked body. His eyes twinkled and your stomach flipped. “… and I also wouldn’t mind if yeh slipped back into that bunny suit again…”

You grinned as he began kissing you all over, the feeling similar but different than last night. His hand palmed your ass and he squeezed, pulling you flush against him, your hands to his chest. “You’re addicted to the bunny.”

He kissed between your breasts, sucking and bruising you. “Mmm… it’s the way that tail moves when yeh swing yehr hips, babeh…”

//

Seventeen Hours Earlier

“I can’t get this stupid tail to stay in place.” You grumbled to your roommate in the bathroom, half-turned in the mirror to try and keep the giant ball of fluff still long enough to pin.

She appeared in the doorway, drink in hand and in full-costume. “Does it have to stay down completely? Jump up and down in it. If it’s stuck on there in at least one spot, I think you’re good.”

You jumped a few times at her request, the tail bouncing up and down, but ultimately, it stayed. “Well…”

“Nice bunny hop.” She teased, taking a sip of her drink. “Leave it be. You look great; can we go now?”

The party was at an apartment in the city. A loft like the one Tom Hanks had in Big. It was full of elaborate costumes and lots and lots and lots of alcohol. It was the kind of event where you didn’t know anybody but you felt like you did.

“Do you know anybody here?” She whispered to you over the music, eyes darting about the room. 

“No.” You laughed, “But I’m sure we’ll run into some people.”

Sure enough, you did. Friends from work. Friends of friends. New friends. It was the way New York worked; rushed and immediate but nostalgic. And once you began drinking; everyone was your friend. 

You lost your roommate to an old college fling of hers after taking pictures in the photo booth together. There was no one in the line, so you stayed for a set of your own. You giggled at the preview of the photos on the screen; particularly the one where you were looking down and adjusting the top of your bunny suit. It was accidental that you’d forgotten to look up, but it was your favorite of the set nonetheless. 

It hadn’t occurred to you that you were alone now at this party, and your heart began to pound when you thought about making it through the rest of the night alone. While you waited for your strip to print, you contemplated your options. The only way you’d survive was ultimately; more alcohol. In your head you counted what you’d already had; two shots at home before you left, a shot in a syringe when you arrived, another that glowed in the black lights with a puff of edible cotton on top, and finally, two halves of a tequila and soda because you’d left them both some place on accident. Was it too much maybe? Should you slow down?

In the two minutes you’d been standing and thinking, it’d felt like you were being watched. You hadn’t noticed at first, but… there were most definitely eyes burning into the back of your head. Casting your eyes over your shoulder, you skimmed the crowd, but it wasn’t hard to find the source of the stare. 

He was cute. Average height. Beer raised to his lips. He paused, a smile spreading across his face when he realized he’d been caught. 

His eyebrow arched and your knees felt like jelly. Why did that always get you?

You smirked, your expression mirroring his as he began weaving through the costumed partygoers on his way towards you. Did you wait? Did you escape and make him look for you? You giggled and snatched your photo strip before sauntering away. Slowly. 

“‘ey!” You heard a deep voice shout. “‘ey, Cottontail. Slow down.”

You halted. _Cottontail._

“Cottontail.” You repeated, turning on the heel of your vintage sixties pumps. “Seriously?”

He chuckled; an endearing sound, and peered at you with wide amber eyes shadowed by the dark black circles painted around them. “Yeah, Cottontail. Got yer attention, dinnit?”

Eyebrow arching again, you looked him up and down. “All this sass from a man dressed in all black; trying to pass off a regular-ass suit as a Halloween costume.”

“Got summat against nicely tailored suits?”

“I’ve got something against last-minute costumes.”

“Ouch.” He smirked, holding his hand up to his heart. “But… yer not denyin’ it’s not bad for last minute, reyt?”

Your lip twitched, but only a little. “Maybe.”

Eyes lingering on one another for a moment, you spun again and headed off. 

“Where yeh goin’, love?”

“Alcohol.” You called back, the nearest bar only a few feet away. A tray of those test tube shots walked by and you snatched two, knocking them both back when you got to the line. “Where’s yours?” 

“I thought… well…” He huffed, “Yeh drank both.”

“They tasted like grape juice.”

“Fook.” He glanced at the disappearing tray, “I love grape juice.”

You giggled. 

“Cottontail laughs. Look at tha.” 

His smile was warm and inviting, and his accent was killer. You’d always had a thing for Brits. You had no idea what his story was, but you liked the way it felt standing beside him, that much you knew. 

“So… yeh can definitely ‘old yehr liquor… yer definitely not a fan of last minute costumes… and yer wearin’ one of the most iconically sexy outfits in history. Are yeh me dream girl?”

“Ha!” You threw your head back and laughed, “Dream girl.”

“Thas wot I fookin’ said; Dream girl.” He pushed his hair from his eyes to get a better look at you, and you gasped a little at the color of his eyes. They were a few shades darker then they’d been earlier; intense.

Your cheeks flushed pink and you smiled shyly, your confidence shaken; despite the assistance of the liquor. “So… how long did your costume take?”

“Mmm… well. I missed me flight… and the airline lost me bags… and…” he paused when he saw how wide your eyes were. “This doesn’t actualleh ‘appen teh meh tha’ often… so I decided to stay for an extra night. A friend of mine who’s a photographer invited meh to this party, and, well, ‘ere weh are.”

You were two people away from ordering your drinks, but you wanted the line to go slower, to have as much time with him as possible. “So you just threw on a suit and some black makeup and decided to be…?”

“I were finkin’ like an undertaker or summat. Thas… ‘alloween-ish, reyt?” He stroked his chin and sucked in a breath. He had the most perfect jaw. 

You considered him, “Hmm. Undertaker’s not bad…” You turned to the bartender and ordered your drinks, “The black makeup is a nice touch.”

He ordered his own drinks and you sipped on yours while you waited, sizing him up again. How and why was this man talking to you? When this party was full of plenty of gorgeous women? 

“I’m Alex by the way.” He announced when he joined you again, two drinks in hand just like you.

“Do you prefer Alex or Al?” You asked with your lips still around the orange and black striped straw.

“Yeh can call meh whatever yeh want, babeh.”

You squinted your eyes, the way he said that sounded like something you’d heard before, but you couldn’t quite—

“I know who you are…” You smirked at him, pulling your lips slowly off the straw. “What is the lead singer from a famous band in England doing at a Halloween party in the city talking to a girl like me?”

The flush rose from the neck of his shirt up to his cheeks and ears; even through the makeup. “Yeh’ve found meh out.”

“This night just got verrry interesting.” The alcohol was buzzing through your veins now, the shots starting to hit you hard. And your body was reacting in all kinds of ways to one Alex Turner. And that was before you knew who he really was. There was an energy radiating from him that was so infectious, and you smiled around the straw again, sipping your drink much faster than you’d intended. 

He grinned, his eyes roving over you for the hundredth time that evening. “Alreyt… please don’t tell meh yeh made yehr costume. Because then I’ll realleh feel like the biggest dickhead in ‘alloween history.”

Your cheeks burned and your stomach ached from laughing at him. He was too much. Silly and self-deprecating, and it was adorable. It made him a thousand times sexier.

“Well. You are officially the biggest dickhead in Halloween history. Because I made the whole damn thing.”

“Fook off. Did yeh realleh?” 

“Yeah. For such a sexy costume; I did a lot of historical research. This was the first official registered uniform actually. In the sixties.”

“Wow I’m like. Wildly attracted to yeh.” Alex gushed, his eyes a little hazy, his words a bit more slurred as you both continued to drink. “Thas so sexy.”

“Shut up.” You laughed and walked beside him through the throngs of people looking for a place to sit.

“I am bein’… completely serious.” 

You spotted a little corner where one of you could perch if you wanted, and headed in that direction. “Oh yeah?” You smirked, glancing over your shoulder at him, catching at him staring at your bunny tail. “And how many drinks have you had tonight, Alex?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, his long fingers twisting through the slightly gelled locks. Your own fingers twitched. You wanted to do that too. 

Squinting his eyes, he confessed that he’d had too many now to keep track. You were impressed, so far he was holding his liquor remarkably well, and keeping up with the conversation quite nicely. 

“Yeh did the research. I like that.” He smirked, glancing over your body once more as you approached the couch in the corner. He gestured for you to sit, but you declined. “Don’t yer feet ‘urt in them fings?”

Instead he perched on the arm, legs open. You tried not to stare, so you cast your eyes downward at the little heels, they weren’t very high at all. “They don’t hurt… it’s more like… the boning in this costume.”

He coughed into his drink, sputtering as he wiped his mouth. “The wot?”

You giggled, “Boning. As in… a hard plastic piece that keeps the bodysuit’s structure. Can’t hardly breathe when I sit. Dirty mind…”

Alex raised his eyebrows and knocked back the rest of his first drink, wiping at his mouth again. He needed to stop doing that; it made you want to kiss him. “Can’t ‘elp it… me mind went reyt there.”

“Hmm…” You hummed, as he leaned over and set his glass on the ground. His hands were back in his hair again when he righted himself, and his knee touched your leg. “Are you mad because I outted you?”

“Wot? No. Not at t’all. Sometimes it’s easy for meh to hide but… I am who I am. Even at a costume party in a poor disguise.”

“In all fairness, I didn’t know who you were until you said, ‘you can call me anything you want’. I recognized the lyric.”

Alex growled lowly, “Didn’t even mean to use me own… doesn’t matter,” He laughed, the hand that held his second drink resting on his thigh. His fingers touched your leg now, and you knew it was on purpose.

“It’s not a poor disguise. It’s just a shitty costume… like more than half the men here…” You teased him and his face lit up. You loved that smile. “Didn’t know undertakers wore their shirts this unbuttoned. Trying to pick up a sexy cadaver?”

“Ehh… mooch prefer sexy rabbits instead.”

You could feel the flush rise up your neck to your cheeks; it probably clashed with the emerald green satin of your costume, but you hoped the dim lighting was a good enough cover. “Have you… ever heard of… the Bunny Dip?” Your tongue felt a little heavy, the alcohol fully soaking in now, enough so that you slowed your words to be a little more coherent.

Alex’s smile spread across his face, the black grease paint circling his eyes creasing and adding to the whole spooky undertaker effect. “I don’t… but I ‘ave… a feelin’ m’about to find out, yeah?”

You grinned, nodding your head and searching for a prop. Grabbing an abandoned drink tray from the table behind you, you excitedly asked to borrow his glass. He graciously offered it to you, and you explained, “The Bunny Dip, was a technique that bunnies at the club were trained to do when serving drinks at a table…” Surprisingly, you didn’t wobble, when you walked a few feet away and sauntered back to Alex. “Good evening, sir…” Turning your back to him, you bent at the knees, dipping just slightly and serving him his drink. Your tail brushed against his thigh and you giggled, “That’s not supposed to happen but… haven’t been properly trained. Guess one quick glance at a YouTube video wasn’t enough…”

Alex’s eyes sparkled, amused by your antics. He was thoroughly enjoying the chase. “And what erm… was the exact purpose of The Bunny Dip, may I ask?”

“Well, the Playboy clubs used to be classy, and it was created with the intent of the Bunnies maintaining poise and grace, while keeping their costumes in place, and preventing their racks from falling out.”

Alex’s eyes went wide, and as if on queue, he looked down at your chest, and back up to

your face, his cheeks red again. “Did yeh joost do tha on purpose?”

He was teasing of course, but you hadn’t meant to draw his attention there, and now here you were. “I didn’t… but that’s what I get isn’t it?” Your throaty laugh made him suck in his breath, and you panicked. “Doyouwannadance?”

The dancing was a good idea for a number of reasons; it helped you sweat out the

alcohol, but it also gave you both an excuse to touch each other. He was fun, and silly, and sexy, and the way his hands fell on your hips made your entire body melt. He tried to pull you back against him, but your gigantic fluffy tail got in the way and he chuckled. “Guess thas not gonna work…” He drawled near your ear, and you spun, sliding your hands up the lapels of his suit jacket, to his neck.

“How’s this?” You asked, pressing yourself up against him as the song changed, your hips swaying involuntarily along to the beat.

“Mooch better…” He smirked, holding your gaze, eyes deep and dark. Endless.

His hands drifted lower, skimming along the hem of your bodysuit, fingering the nude fishnets and your skin between each little diamond shape. He was a little more bold while lost in the sweaty mess of bodies in the middle of the floor, confidently exploring. You did the same. 

One hand on the back of his neck, the other sliding inside the jacket of his suit. “A three-piece suit? That’s… ridiculously sexy…” You reached up on tiptoes, red lips nearly grazing his ear.

As if emphasizing your point, you squeezed his waist over the vest, wishing he was wearing as little as you.

“Look at you, trying to pick up a sexy undertaker…” His voice drifted to your ear on the cool scent of tequila and soda, and whatever that grape thing in the test tube was. Each time the waitress ducked through the crowd, you both grabbed one; not thinking of the consequences.

You threw your head back, laughing, feeling warm and loose and really, really attracted to him. “I guess your shitty costume won me over…”

His hair fell into his eyes, and he licked his lips, and you kept teasing him. “Could’ve gone as anything… a mysteriously sexy vampire, a dead greaser… Alice Coop–”

Your words were cut off by his kiss, his lips soft and wet; but not remotely sloppy. His tongue flicked out and teased you before pulling back with a chuckle. “And I’ve surprisingly been all three of those things in one way or another…”

You were still lost in the kiss, eyes lidded, lips half-parted, longing for more. “Hmm?”

He laughed, his nose brushing against yours before kissing you again. This one was deeper, wetter, lingering longer as his hands pressed against the small of your back, arching you into him, your breasts crushed against the open neck of his dress shirt. His skin was sweaty and you stuck together, a quick vision flashing behind your eyes of a similar feeling later on, when you were both much more naked. You moaned, kissing him back now just as hungrily.

“Of course you’re a good kisser…” You mumbled, when you pulled back, fingers tucked beneath the collar of his jacket, gripping tightly.

His eyebrows lifted in surprise, “Would you prefer I be… less good? ‘Cause I could do tha…” He leaned back in, sloppily kissing your mouth, no control of his tongue, the two of you laughing like drunken fools.

“Even your worst is pretty fucking good,” You admitted, wiping at the saliva around your lips. He chuckled, his eyes slightly drowsy, his sweat seeping through the layers. “You should take this off…” Pushing at the shoulders of his jacket, you helped him discard the unnecessary third layer; holding tight to it as you watched him roll up his sweaty sleeves, the waistcoat underneath open, his white dress shirt so damp it clung to his skin. His hair was just as wet, a piece hanging in his eyes as he straightened himself up. You saw a tattoo peeking out from beneath the left cuff, tilting your neck to read it. “Sheffield.”

“Me hometown.”

You grinned, “In case you ever get lost?”

He leaned in, more hair falling into his face, “Exactly.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can also [find me on Tumblr](https://hearteyesturner.tumblr.com/).


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